Slave To Eternity
by BlazeInfinity
Summary: Diwaldor Tabris, Warden-Commander of Ferelden, sets out to free his kin that were once taken by slavers from the Denerim Alienage. But what, or who he finds, will shatter what his life has so far been. Leliana/M!Tabris/Nessa.    P.S.: this is a dead fic, I'm afraid.
1. A Successful Raid

**_Slave to Eternity_**

_a Dragon Age fanfiction_

_by **BlazeInfinity**_

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><p><em>Hello, guys. Some of you may have been familiar with my oneshot story, Extramarital Affair, in which I introduced a TabrisNessa pairing. Well, I looked back on it and thought, hell, this apparently leads to nowhere, ends too fast, leaves the reader wanting too much more for it to actually be a good thing and so on. So, I decided to write this. Enjoy._

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><p>The swords clash.<p>

I shift my blade back as it is deflected, only to strike with my dagger. The necessity to evade my stab forces the Tevinter soldier to throw himself back, as I release one last blow with my shining, meteorite-ore sword.

He collapses into the dust, where blood quickly spills.

In a whirling dance of death, I cut a swath of metallic destruction through the host of enemies before me. Deep inside, I can hear the darkspawn taint _roar_ at the taste of so much blood.

With a corner of my eye, I witness Leliana stuff a dozen arrows, one after another, into another. With another I see Sten swirl his Asala sword in a circle, felling the Tevinters like trees. I feel myself smile, slowly. And sweat too, gah, sod this heavy armor, especially in hot, hot Tevinter!

How did I get here, you ask? Well, the story is surprisingly brief. I, using my wonderful Grey Warden connections, heard just exactly where Valendrian and several other of the elves shipped off from the Alienage by the slave traders were gotten to. And using my wonderful constant inability to disconnect myself from politics and my wonderful constant inability to consider that I, by trying to meddle personally, might actually cause them harm, I got to the manor of a powerful magister, and here I find myself on the verge of causing a mass scandal: the Warden-Commander of Ferelden, the famous Diwaldor Tabris, slaughtering people like pigs - and that in Tevinter, not Ferelden at that. Thank the Maker for the helmet I wear. It's so heavy I can't even see anything from under it - obviously these bastards won't be able to recognize my face because they won't see my face, either.

Leliana, she agreed to follow me because, well, she agrees to follow me anywhere even if my ideas are desperately bad and/or insane. Sten, he himself'll do anything to fight the Tevinters, being Qunari as he is, and he's a loyal friend, too - often, I'd think that he is even a better friend to me than Alistair, especially ever since I've decided to spare Loghain, what he, though he eventually forgave me (because Loghain successfully _died _killing the Archdemon), never really _forgot_.

Taking down the last soldiers in the room, we charge towards where we perceive the last room we haven't checked (and set on fire afterwards to provide cover for any slaves that we found to escape) and it would be logical for Valendrian and the others to be - the kitchens. Note the plural form. Such an extensive architectural formation - we perceived it to be extensive from the plans we saw, in case you want to know - cannot be named with a singular form of a word.

We heard metal boots trampling on the ground, and as we turned, we saw a whole squad of Tevinters. Lel, however, proved her incredulous ability to _manage_ stuff and, with a rather unclear combination of actions (that involves, at the very least, flaming arrows, triggered traps of which I have no idea how they got there, and collapsing ceilings) had successfully isolated them from us. Or vice-versa, I didn't particularly care.

"_This_ is why I love you," I laughed, though my face was grim and dark. The helmet was really ticking me off by now. It was torturously heavy, as I've mentioned earlier.

As I kicked out the door of the kitchen, I was relatively right. Dozens of elves! Everywhere! With worried expressions and fear in their faces. I knew from what their fear stemmed. After all, I was covered in blood.

"You're free," I said, reassuringly. They looked to each other, as if unsure on what to do. And then they reached towards a back door I saw behind them. And while they were leaving, I realized that Valendrian wasn't among them. Another question popped up in my mind, 'Why didn't they leave earlier?', before I heard something in a back closet. Quite possibly, the chef, who no doubt now cowers in fear of the slaughter outside.

But then, then I noticed something - someone - who shook, by her very presence there, me to the bone.

Her brown-red hair, now no longer worn in a braid, loose and long. In a dress of sackcloth, what meant a decrease in clothing quality even from that of the Alienage. There stood the love of my youth (though mentally terming it that seemed stupid because it was only five years before) and looked at me, longingly, as if she wished to take such a look at me that it would be enough for eternity. And I shifted in my place uneasingly, knowing she couldn't see anything worthwhile through the helmet, and I didn't want to take it off - just in the case of safety.

"Nessa," I spoke gently, as if wishing to reassure her that it was me by the sound of my voice.

Failing to constrain herself, she ran straight at me, hugging me, squeezing me, _warming_ me.

"I knew you'd come for me," she spoke.

When I recovered from the initial shock, I hugged her back. And then I realized how awkward it was. Lel was standing right by me, after all. I didn't particularly think my current girlfriend would appreciate me hugging another woman. I drew back.

"We have to get out of here, Nessa," I said, kindly, but with a touch of strictness in my voice. And she felt it. She looked at me, I saw it, desperately trying to see something in my eyes. I thanked, mentally, the Maker for imploring Fereldans to make heavy helmets that make this impossible.

"Kadan, they're coming," Sten, who had been standing by the door, said. Before drawing his blade and taking a step back towards us. And before a whole host of soldiers rushed into the room, surrounding us.

After them stepped a mage in magister clothing, whose face was concealed by a hood. Nessa hid behind me. I felt her breathe virtually by my shoulder.

"That woman is my property, you vagabonds," hissed the magister, "and you shall relieve yourself of her immediately, if you value your life."

The soldiers had by now finished surrounding us, and a few more mages entered the room too. We would have been doomed if we tried fighting.

But I could not surrender her. I owed her too much after all. And who's to say that the mage wouldn't kill us after we gave her back?

Slowly, I drew my sword.

"Is that your final answer?" he spoke, loud and clear. And then a brilliant thought struck me. To the surprise of Leliana, approval of Sten (for he was disappointed with the concept of sneaking in general), and a surprising lack of emotion coming from Nessa, I tore off my helmet. And to the surprise of Leliana, slightly lesser surprise of Sten, and incredible surprise of Nessa, I said:

"In the name of the Grey Wardens, I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription."

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><p>"That was ingenious, kadan."<p>

The waves beneath me rocked our ship gently on the way to Seheron, from where Sten would take his road back home and me, Leliana and Nessa would journey back to Ferelden.

I raised my head, turning towards Sten on this statement.

"Invoking the Right of Conscription," he clarified, "Certainly not what the Tevinter expected. And certainly he didn't expect you then suddenly killing him while he was in shock, either."

I spat into the sea. It was times like these that I really wasn't sure if the Qunari was sarcastic. He didn't seem to be, but the construction of that sentence was rather peculiar.

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><p>"I invoke the Right of Conscription," I repeated, in order to make it absolutely clear to the mage. And then to make it clearer, I jumped forward and gutted him, using the millisecond he had of surprise. Leliana, though she needed to also recover from the shock, reacted and shot arrows at the nearest mage she could target. Sten had already, as if expecting this, attacked the soldiers, and again was cutting swaths through them. I wasted no time myself, jumping to another mage, and before he could cast any spells a blade was sticking out his stomach.<p>

Fifteen minutes later, I, exhausted, collapsed on my feet upon a pool of blood. Fortunately, not _my_ blood.

I felt Leliana's hand upon my shoulder, and minutes later, she gave me another, assisting me to get up.

"You tricked him," Nessa stated, with a tone as if disappointed, and slowly, I realized why. "You didn't really mean it."

"No, Nessa, I didn't," I said, with great personal effort, being exhausted from the battle. "Being a Grey Warden is a calling, not one to be taken lightly at that. Not a calling even, but _the_ Calling, and it's not something I am willing to sacrifice you to, and not something you'd be willing if you knew more, either. You have a life, and a free one now. Live it."

After a second of silence, she nodded. Reluctantly. No one knew why, but I did, and I do.

She didn't see, even without my helmet on, how cold and dark, truly, my green eyes were.

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><p>"She feels something for you, kadan," Sten said, to what I responded with a quizzing expression that I, as you might've guessed, faked. "The she-elf. While we're travelling with her for only a short while, I've seen her try to look in your eyes more times than I've seen Leliana do it."<p>

I turned my face back down into the sea.

"Me and Nessa..." I spoke, slowly. Grimly, too. "We were together before I was a Grey Warden. For a brief while. Yet, it was one of the happiest days of my life. But now... I can't have her. I have Leliana."

Sten leant down to look at the depths as well.

"Whom would you rather have, if you had the choice?"

I straightened myself, slowly.

"I don't know."

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><p>Under the ship's deck, it stank of turpentine.<p>

Though, for that, there was no rational reason.

When in the middle of the night I descended there for a good night's rest, I found Leliana already sleeping. Or she pretended to be. I already knew all of her similar games.

Yet now, I had no interest in them. Strangely enough. When I laid down by her and she felt me beside, she - for she, as I expected, wasn't sleeping - tried "convincing" me that sleep was certainly not a worthwhile thing right now as opposed to what else we could do.

"No, Leliana," I said, gently, "I'm tired. And we're not alone here, either."

That was a true statement. Everyone on board slept either on deck or in this same hold. She drew away. "Sorry, you're right. There'll be enough excitement back in Amaranthine."

Back in Amaranthine. Graaah, those three words seemed so irritating when suddenly I discovered a wish in myself to head to Denerim. See my father again, see Shianni and the others. Afterwards visit Soris in Highever, perhaps.

Valendrian, from what we were told by Nessa, had been taken by the magister's guards one day somewhere, and simply never returned. Knowing Tevinter, he's probably not anything close to alive by a long shot anymore. Nessa's parents, they too had disappeared in such a manner.

But Nessa, her being there eclipsed all. As much as I desperately tried to deny it to myself, I was wracked by conflicting emotions right now. It was all fine and well - me and Leliana... before I found her again. I could not bear to look her in the eyes, for it caused me too much pain. I, sod it, still felt something for her - might've been how I _had_ her once, and then that very same day been simply torn away by the situation - and for milliseconds I would dream that by me lied not Leliana, but Nessa, and for even more milliseconds I wanted to go upstairs and jump off the deck, 'least that would solve my emotional _mess_.

_No, you mustn't do anything,_ that's what I thought then, and was quite right in some occasions in that sentence. _It'd solve itself eventually, when you'd realize that what you suppose you still have for Nessa is a bare shard of a long-lost love. Your old life died - ironically - with Bann Vaughan, for then and afterwards it became radically different. Don't pretend it can be the same._

But one thing I was certain of.

When we'd land in Amaranthine, a detour to Denerim would be in order. I really wanted to see my relatives now.


	2. Friends, Family, and Family Friends

_**a Dragon Age fanfiction**_

_**by BlazeInfinity**_

_**Slave To Eternity**_

_**chapter 2**_

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><p><em>Here's the second chapter of Slave to Eternity. Enjoy!<em>

_P.S. Thanks be to my -one- reviewer._

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><p>"Son?" Cyrion said-<p>

No! Sod cutting ties and Grey Warden Commander jargon! He wasn't Cyrion - well, he was, but first and foremost he was Father! _My _father! _My father_ said, "Son?" - a bit unconvincedly, as if unsure whether I was actually there and not off saving the world - somewhere around Amaranthine.

I nodded, saying, "I'm home, father."

I took great personal pleasure in saying that word. I hadn't said it once ever since I got appointed Warden-Commander.

"Where's Leliana?" he questioned, a quizzical expression marking his face.

"Didn't take her along," I explained. Briefly. And obviously not enough for my everprying father.

"I didn't think she'd miss any chance to visit the Alienage. She's always been so peculiarly interested in our way of life. As if it was any different from a typical shem's."

I ignored these three sentences, nodding towards a chair by the table in my old home, asking, "Can I sit?"

Father smiled.

"Why do you ask? It's your home, isn't it?"

I smiled too. I was increasingly satisfied to know I wasn't getting disowned or anything because of my Warden-Commander duties.

The last time I visited was straight before the devastating incidents in Vigil's Keep. And ironically enough, my father wasn't home then. Alistair was, I officially decided, a very strange king with something even stranger - his heart being in the right place. Eventually he determined that dear Bann Shianni was not enough to represent all the many Elves of Ferelden, being only one person after all, and decided that Cyrion should be a representative of the Elves at Denerim's city council, _per acclamationem_ from the Elven corners of society. With both a bann and a magistrate representing them, the City Elves of Ferelden quickly grabbed hold of the power they were being slowly given as if a mabari was carefully being fed, with the fear emanating from its owner that it might bite off his hand. My father was simply too busy that time to attend to me.

Then is when I was introduced to a completely impossible and strange line of events that proceeded while I was slaughtering my way through Ferelden during the Blight.

Apparently, Shianni got herself a boyfriend who, well, so to speak, I knew. He kind of tried killing me once, and then he fled to the Denerim Alienage where he was granted refuge by a local Elven family. They had lots of explaining to do that time, and I had lots to take in, hence my long absence from the Alienage afterwards. But now, I hoped, they'd not be around, so my defensive instincts, demanding that I'd grab the nearest item that could be used as a weapon wouldn't go off-

"Ah, dear future cousin-in-law!"

Right, those hopes were shattered. Entered into our house Zevran Arainai, my dear cousin Shianni herself following straight after him, grinning like heck, both of them.

"What can I get you, dear cousin-in-law? Or is it Warden-Commander? Commander of the Grey? One who was merciful enough not to have me killed once? His Grace the Arl of Amaranthine as viceroy of the Grey Wardens?"

"Calling me 'Diwaldor' is fine, but generally I'd like an ale," I nodded, hiding all marks of imitation, wiping them clear from my expression. "And technically speaking you two aren't married yet, so I'm not your cousin-in-law yet... unless there's something I don't know."

The Antivan elf, who had a ridiculous ability to conjure up drinks simply from a cupboard which wasn't supposed to have any, did so. I was often placed under the impression he knew Oghren when he did so. On another note, I was often placed under the impression that was one of the main ways he managed to conquer Shianni's heart.

"Not much," replied Shianni, "Well, we are seriously considering when we're going to have that wedding, but nothing's been decided yet. And since you brought back Nessa, you've caused such an uproar that it's no time for a wedding just yet. Thanks, Di."

"I couldn't have just left her there," I answered, ignoring the fact that she wasn't serious.

"You realize she still hasn't forgotten the fact that you knocked her off," she grinned. I looked around to see that my father, who had an orthodox view of these things, wasn't here anymore. Probably escaped when Zevran came along - never liked him too much, at least I got such an impression from what Shianni had told me last time I was here.

"How the bloody hell do you know?" I hissed, almost angrily. Zevran was standing by a wall and grinning like sod.

"You did an apparently wonderful job at it, I might add, because she had been boasting about it to every girl in the Alienage after you left. Well, not openly her. She was rather shy about it, but the rumor got out, and quite soon she became the most popular girl around, and also the one with the most other girls jealous of her. Imagine that, she slept with a Grey Warden! On his wedding day!"

"Shut up," I growled. That son-of-a-bitch Zevran was grinning ever more. I could've sworn he wanted to make some oh-so-witty remark. I hated his oh-so-witty remarks.

Shianni smirked. I was growing ever more certain that she was drunk. And then that impression disappeared when she suddenly stopped smirking.

"She really loved you, you know," she said, quietly. Zevran seemed to turn solemn as well. "We both know both of yours dreams were always either about each other or forgetting each other. And though I haven't spoken to her yet since you got her back, I don't think either of you would forget that so quickly."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, you, maybe, because you have Leliana and all. But she, Nessa, she didn't have a single man, or dream about a single man ever since you left. When her parents tried arranging a marriage between her and some merchant's son from South Reach, she sabotaged it completely by doing things I shudder to describe, hence why I won't."

I should've in theory smiled, but I didn't.

"And then she cried like insane when she thought you died, when we all had. She had to literally force herself to visit your funeral. It was truly depressing to see her crying all the time through the procession. In that trauma, nobody was surprised when we thought she and her parents caught the sickness."

I faced away, towards a wall that seemed so distant even though it was only a few steps away. I felt as if the room was becoming bigger and bigger.

"Diwaldor, be honest," said, to my surprise, seriously, Zevran, "Would you have her if you could? Do you want her?"

I spat. "Why is everyone asking me the same questions? I don't know. Does it matter now?"

"Doesn't it?" asked Shianni. "Di, you're my cousin. If I know anything you wouldn't agree in your life to be doing anything with a woman that you prefer someone to. Or doing any such woman, either."

Silence stood for a few seconds.

"I love Leliana," I said, firmly, or at least I tried to. I tried to convince myself, believe in that statement. I meant it more for myself than them, actually.

Again, a terrifying silence took hold of the room. Before someone knocked on the door. In came Nathaniel Howe, to what I raised an eyebrow.

"Nathaniel? Why are you here? And who's in charge of the Wardens at Amaranthine, if you're here?"

"Sorry for the interruption, Commander of the Grey," he bowed his head slightly, "But as you probably know, when your ship landed in Amaranthine's harbor, I was off with a small group of Wardens in the Deep Roads. And when I returned only hours after you left for Denerim, I decided to follow you, because, well, we have a problem, Commander. The Deep Roads there are anomalously empty. Moreover, we found evidence of massive battles between darkspawn and, well, _something_. And the darkspawn mostly lost them. As to answer who's in command, it's in the good hands of Seneschal Garevel."

"So why are we supposed to care? It's not like that being's heading for the surface, right?"

Nathaniel smiled. Sadly.

"That's what I presumed too, Commander. But then I examined the Roads slightly closer, discovering that, while slowly, that thing indeed does seem to be going in the direction of the surface. Not Amaranthine, but rather further south. I just thought I should inform you."

I sensed the cynicism in his voice and barely restrained myself from death glaring him.


End file.
